


Florence Nightingale, Eat Your Heart Out.

by LuminousMe



Category: Julie and the Phantoms
Genre: 2020 au, But not smart, Flynn is an artist, Gen, He's earnest, Highschool AU, Luke is a himbo, Nail Painting, Sick boys, dumb boys, everybody lives au, referenced abuse, surprise chapter two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousMe/pseuds/LuminousMe
Summary: Carlos is sick. Ray is out of town. Julie makes a mean chicken soup.Oh, and Luke is also there.
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 310





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So maybe I'm in a cheesy fluff mood 😳 sorry ,
> 
> Ray being out of town for month and Julie(17) takes care of Carlos with Lukes(18 so runs to store alot to help stock up on stuff and meds) help (Ray trust Luke and lukes parents live around the block from them)and Carlos gets sick with fever and ends up with chicken pox, Luke thinks he had them so he's stays with Julie to help with Carlos and school come find out he's never had them and starts out like Carlos with a fever day before and breaks out into chicken pox as well and Julie takes care of her boys (meds , temperaturecheck etc ) I really hope you do please.
> 
> \--
> 
> OOF.
> 
> Anon, this is exactly what I needed today. Thanks for the request!

“I don’t know, _mija_ , maybe I should just come home,” Ray says, his face on the small glass screen of her phone, propped up against a bottle of Olive oil. They are currently face timing, as Julie prepares soup for Carlos, whose in the next room with a fever.

Julie pulls a face, stirring the can of chicken soup she’s heating on the stove. “Papi, I’ve told you, it’s fine.”

He frowns in the low afternoon sun which rests in bars over his face. He is currently two states way, where he’s been for the past two weeks, working maternity cover for a friend’s studio.

“I don’t know, Julie, I just feel like a bad dad for not being there…”

Julie turns down the heat and taps the wooden spoon on the edge of the pan. “Well, you shouldn’t. We talked about this. The pay is too good to turn it down,” she says. “Besides, Tìa will be round later and Luke’s out picking up Carlos’ prescription as we speak. There’s honestly nothing you could do right now, even if you were here.”

Ray’s lips twist. He is still worried and dissatisfied.

Julie smiles at her father. “It’s only two more weeks and you’ll be back. Carlos will be fine. Please, just enjoy yourself. We’ll be fine.”

As she finishes her reassurances, she hears the click of the front door opening. She sees Luke letting himself in and he lifts up the small paper bag of medicine.

“Got it,” he mouths from across the room.

When Julie smiles and jumps her eyebrows at him in recognition, his eyes light up and his lips crook up in the corners. She feels his smile touch her insides and she feels warmth in her cheeks. Sometimes she thinks he carries the sun on a keychain in his pocket, just to bring light into her life.

“Speak of the devil,” Julie says, dipping her eyes back to the soup, which has started to simmer under the lid.

“Who you callin’ a devil?” he says as he walks over to her, in that ridiculous brooklyn accent he affects every now and again. She rolls her eyes.

“Definitely couldn’t be you,” she labours, which makes Luke laughs.

“Hey Luke,” comes Ray’s voice from the phone and Luke rounds the island counter to stand in front of the camera.

“Hey, Mr. Molina,” he says, waving the hand that holds the bag of medicine.

“You looking after my Julie?”

“As always, sir. Somebody’s gotta keep her in line.”

Julie narrows his eyes at him, though she can’t shift the amused smile from her mouth. He lifts his thick eyebrows at her in challenge.

When Julie pulls her gaze away to look at her dad again, she is both pleased and embarrassed to see him smiling.

“Alright, _mija_ , it seems like you’ve got things taken care of. I’m going to check in with Tìa, I need her to take a look at some other stuff for me.”

“Okay,” Julie says, nudging Luke out of the way with her hip to get a bowl out of the drawer. She’s pleased when he stumbles.

“Alright, love you, baby.”

“Love you, too, dad.”

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Nice to speak to you, sir.”

They hang up and Julie immediately prods the boy in chest. She adopts a mockery of his voice and says, “ _Somebody’s gotta keep her in line,_ really?”

Luke bites his bottom lip but an amused smile breaking through anyway.

“What? They do.”

She snorts and nods towards the lounge. “Give the gremlin his medicine.”

“Yes, boss,” he says, saluting and making an about turn. He disappears behind the staircase into the lounge and Julie tries to swallow down the mirth in her chest as she finishes serving up the soup. She grabs two slices of bread and drops them onto a plate.

When she joins the boys in the lounge, she finds Carlos, covered in small red welts, sitting up under his blanket, thumbs clacking against the buttons of his Xbox controller. 

Luke is already slouched next to him, holding another controller, staring at the screen which is split down the middle. They’re playing COD and Julie winces at the digital sound of gunfire and explosions.

“Pause it,” Julie says, placing the bowl of soup and bread on the coffee table in front of him. “Food’s ready.”

Carlos lets out a frustrated groan, but hits another button and an options menu flashes up on screen. Their digital soldiers freeze and he tosses his controller aside, leaning to grab his soup. 

Luke’s thumbs still, too, and he rolls his head back. 

The three of them sit quietly while Carlos eats. Luke and Julie are both on their phones.

When a snapchat notification banner pops down on her phone a few moments later, she raises her eyebrow at Luke.

“What are you sending me?”

He doesn’t look up, but a coy smile threads its way across his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Molina.”

Carlos doesn’t even bother to engage with the two of them, just rolls his eyes as he shoves half a slice of bread in his mouth.

Julie frowns and opens the snap.

She claps a hand over her mouth when she sees Luke’s face, which is compressed into an oval, eyes shifted to the left and bugging out wide. He’s also put a _bitmoji_ sticker of the two of them squatting with prayer hands at the bottom of the screen. It’s a total fucking mess and she loves it. 

“Oh my god,” Julie groans and screenshots the selfie. Luke attempts to hide a smirk with a fist. 

She shakes her head and begins to stage a return selfie - using a filter that gives her a moustache and a monobrow - when she gets a message from the group chat. It’s from Reggie. 

Her stomach plummets as she reads it. 

When she glances up, Luke’s stern face tells her he’s reading the message, too.

Carlos, sensing the sudden shift in the room, glances between the two older teens. “Did something happen, or…?”

Julie sighs, rubbing the stress from her brow. She pushes her fingers against her eyes, before shifting to massage her temples. 

“Guys?” Carlos prompts again. 

“Um, Reggie’s parents are fighting again,” she says, resting her chin in her hand. She blinks, her stomach now consumed by a dull ache of worry. “His dad smashed a glass and he got hit by a piece.”

Julie looks up at her brother and finds his young face drawn in horror. At his side, she can see Luke staring at his phone with a piercing intensity. His thumbs work double-time as he hammers out a response.

Carlos brings his jaw up and he swallows. “Well, tell him to come here.”

Julie shakes her head, worrying her bottom lip between her fingers. “I can’t,” she mutters as she reads the string of messages that flood into the group chat from her friends. Luke’s messages are littered with angry faces, while Flynn and Alex ask where he is and whether or not he can get out.

"Why not?” Carlos asks. “Is he okay?”

“He says there’s a bit of blood, but nothing too traumatic.”

Luke scoffs. “Yeah, says the guy who played with a broken hand for a week before telling us.”

Another response from Reggie pops through. He can get out.

Carlos’ face screwed up with worry. “Julie…”

“ _No_ , Carlos.”

Flynn tells Reggie to pack an overnight bag. She says she’s with Alex and they’re already in his truck on their way to pick him up. Julie and Luke bother release a relieved sigh.

Carlos pouts. “Why not?”

Julie snapped her eyes up to her younger brother. “Because you’re sick.”

Carlos’ brows furrowed. “So?”

“So, we don’t want to risk Reggie getting infected.”

“But Luke’s here.”

“Yeah, well, Luke’s had chicken pox before,” she says, as she fills the message box with purple heart emojis. “Reggie hasn’t.”

“Wait, what?” Luke’s head snaps up and Julie lifts her gaze slowly. She cocks her head curiously at him. 

“What? You were there when he said it.”

“No, I know. But why does that matter whether or not he’s had it?”

Julie blinks at him. “Because,” she begins slowly. “You only get it once but it’s a lot worse if you’re older…”

Luke swallows and Julie’s eyes fly open wide. She drops her hands heavily against her legs. "Luke!”

“I didn’t know!” He throws his hands out in protest. 

“How did you not… Oh my god.” She drops her head into her hands.

Even Carlos is looking at Luke in bemusement. “Dude, you are definitely going to sick.”

Luke drops his head back against the sofa cushions. “Well… Shit.”

\--

The next morning, Julie is on the phone to Emily Patterson, to discuss her sick son’s recent bout of idiocy.

“Yeah, a bit of a fever, but otherwise he’s alright.”

Julie peers out of the kitchen and into the lounge, where she now has two sick boys on the sofa, cocooned under a layer of blankets.

“Yeah, I think he’ll live. I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“ _Are you sure you don’t want to send him home to us, Julie?_ ”

At that moment, Luke turns his head to look at Carlos sat besides him. Despite that sheen of sweat on his skin, he smiles at something Carlos says. She curls her lips inwards, attempting not to let the giddiness of two of her favourite boys grinning at each other overwhelm her.

“ _Julie?_ ”

She snaps out of it. “Uh? Oh. No, no. Honestly, Mrs. Patterson… Emily. It actually works out well this way.”

She glances over her shoulder, once again stealing a look at her boys. Luke ruffles a hand through Carlos’ hair.

This time, Julie lets herself smile.

“They’re keeping each other entertained.”

“ _Okay, well, if you’re sure,_ ” Emily says. “ _I’ll go by the store this afternoon and pick up some medicine and things. I’ll try and drop them round before four._ ”

Julie nods. “Thanks, Emily. I appreciate that.”

“ _Take care, my love._ ”

Julie hangs up and slips the phone into her back pocket, before gathering up three mugs of lemon and ginger tea and carrying them through to the kitchen.

She places two down in front of the boys before curling up with her own on the other sofa.

She looks at Luke. “Your mom says to tell you that you’re an idiot, by the way.”

Luke’s mouth drops open as her looks at her. "No, she didn’t,” Luke says, his gape shifting into a grin.

Julie snorts, “Oh, she did,” she says, before lifting her mug to her mouth and taking a sip. 

“You’re _such_ a liar, Molina.”

“If it helps.”

"Guys,” Carlos says, throwing a hand out. “Shut up, I can’t hear the movie.”

Julie lifts her eyebrows at Luke, who, in return, sticks out his tongue.

As she sips the warm, tangy tea, Julie feels it flooded with a sense of peace. She rests back into the cushions and releases a sigh of contentment.

she’s got warm tea, a good movie, and her boys. 

She’s happy.


	2. I'm Your Dad, Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected sequel to Eat Your Heart Out, Florence Nightingale. 
> 
> The parallel events of Alex, Flynn, and Reggie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for this to happen, but here we are. When Julie is caring for her two sick boys, Flynn is looking after the others.

Alex and Flynn are on laying on Flynn's bedroom floor when both of their phones buzz across the room.

Alex reaches for his phone, but Flynn pins his wrist to the carpet. "Stay still," she says, not for the first time that afternoon, as she brushes nail polish onto his ring finger.

Alex pouts, but rests his chin back on the floor and watches as the girl delicately paints his nails a peppy candy floss pink. 

"You are going to take this off before I go home, right?”Alex asks, feeling like a dick for asking. “Just that my dad's head will explode if he sees this."

Flynn pulls a face, but agrees nonetheless. "Honestly, I just wanna smack your dad sometimes," she says with a sigh.

Alex huffs a breathy laugh through his nose. “Yeah, get in line.”

Flynn smirks and sits up, capping the polish and sweeping her fallen braids over her shoulder. Alex admires his bright nails with a small smile.

"Alright, when those are dry, I'm gonna paint little drum sticks and cymbals on 'em. It’s gonna look cute as hell.”

Alex wets his lips to stop himself from smiling too wide. "Cool, thanks."

"Anytime, sweet boy," she says, reaching for her phone on the bed. She yanks it from her the charger and scans her thumbprint. 

Alex is deciding whether or not he wants sticks on his thumb when he hears Flynn mutter a sharp " _ Fuck _ ," under her breath.

He looks up and raises an eyebrow.

"Everything alright?" he asks and his stomach sinks when she shakes her head, her fist at her lips, her eyes locked onto her screen. "Flynn?"

"Group chat."

Alex reaches for his phone and checks his messages. He finds a string of messages pouring into the group chat from all four other members, including Flynn. He quickly scrolls to the top to catch up.

**Flynn and The Sinners**

4:23pm

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ So... _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _Dad threw a glass at the wall in the dinging room._

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ when was at the table doing my homework. _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _and a piece may or may not have got me_ **😅**

 **Queen Molin(a):** _wait really? are you okay?_

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ it was just a small piece _

**Flexy McBisceps:** _ffs dude what are you kidding me??_

 **Pure Boy 🌟:** _do you think Mrs Peters will grade me down for getting blood on my essay?_ **😅**

Alex feels his pulse leap as he continues to scroll through the conversation.

**Flexy McBisceps:** _ you’re bleeding????! _

**Queen Molin(a):** _ Reg, are you okay?? _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ I’m fine, it’s just a little bit of blood haha _

**Flexy McBisceps:** _ fuck sake dude why was he throwing shit in the first place??? _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ I dunno, he was fine one second and then the next _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** **🌋👀**

**🌜SpaceFlynn🌛:** _ Dude, that’s messed up _

**🌜SpaceFlynn🌛:** _ Did he at least... help you? _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ nah, he just yelled at me for making a mess and stormed out _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ i’m just hanging out _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _over the sink_

**Pure Boy 🌟: 😅**

**Flexy McBisceps:** _ I’m gonna fucking kill him, bro, I stg. _

**Flexy McBisceps:** **😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬**

“Alex,” Flynn says.

“Way ahead of you,” Alex says, thumbing in his own message.

**🌈Pray me Away 🌸:** _Reg, me and Flynn are just hanging out, so we’re gonna come get you okay?_

**🌜SpaceFlynn🌛:** _ Are you able to get out of the house? _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ yeah, I think so _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ dad shut himself in his office and mom went out for lunch _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ you guys don’t have to come here tho im okay _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ It’s just funny  _ **😅**

**Flexy McBisceps:** _ Dude, it’s not funny! You’re dad is an asshole  _ **🤬**

**🌜SpaceFlynn🌛:** _ nah dude, pack a bag, you’re staying at mine tonight. I already asked my parents. _

**Pure Boy 🌟:** _ noooo, you don’t have to do that Flynn  _

**🌜SpaceFlynn🌛:** _ well I am and you can’t tell me what to do  _

**🌜SpaceFlynn🌛:**

Alex forgets about his nails as he pulls on his denim jacket, until he looks down at his hands and frowns. 

“Sorry, I...” he begins, before showing them to Flynn. His thumbs, fingers, and palms are smudged with tacky pink polish. 

She crooks a smile at him and shakes her head. “It’s fine, I’ll do it again later. First Reggie,” she says, pulling the hair out the collar of her own denim. “Let’s roll.”

Alex nods and squeezes the keys to his truck in his pocket. “Alright, let’s go.”

\--

As Alex pulls up outside the beach-front house, he spots Reggie, sitting on the porch, with his head in his hand, and next to him, there’s a small rucksack. As he looks up, however, Alex notices that he’s holding a rag to his forehead and the rag is steeped with red. 

He barely remembers to pull on the parking break as he flings himself out of the driver’s side. Flynn is close behind as he hurries to the boy, who stands up and swings his bag onto his shoulder. 

“Hey, guys,” Reggie says, wearing a guilty smile.

"Reg,” Alex breathes. He swallows, looking the boy up and down. It’s not his usual attire. Instead, Reggie is in a dark grey hoodie, a pair of black jeans and some old trainers. He didn’t intend to be in public today. 

“You said it was just a little bit of blood,” Flynn gasps, brows drawn in horror as she stares at the rag.

Alex steps forward and takes Reggie’s arm by the wrist. He gently pries his hand away from his forehead. Reggie lowers his eyes as Alex examines the gash above his left eyebrow. Without the rag, blood wells to the surface of his skin and slides over his brow. Reggie has to shut his eye. 

Alex takes the rag from Reggie’s hand and reapplies it to his head. “Okay,” he says, softly, though the anger inside is hot and thunderous. “Okay, Reg.”

Now free, Reggie shoves both of his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. He leans against Alex’s hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Flynn puts her hand on Reggie’s arm, and slides it down the dark fabric to hook her thumb in the crook of his elbow. “Don’t say sorry, Reg. You’ve got nothing to apologise for, okay?”

Alex folds the rag again and presses it against his wound. “I think you’re going to need stitches. We should probably take you to the emergency room.”

Reggie winces, but not from the pain. “You really think it’s that bad?”

“Dude, you texted us, like, twenty minutes ago, and you’re still bleeding. I think it’s that bad.”

“Oh,” he says, and then, “What happened to your hand?”

Alex frowns, caught off guard for a moment, before he looks at his hand. His candy floss stained hand. He snorts. 

“I was painting his nails,” Flynn explains.

“I like the colour.”

“Thanks, Reg.”

“It suits you.”

Alex laughs and throws an arm around his friend. “Okay, dork, let’s get you fixed up.”

\--

Later, they’re back at Flynn’s. Once again, Flynn and Alex lay on their stomachs, this time in a floor nest, surrounded by blankets and pillows. 

The tip of Flynn’s tongue pokes out her lips as she draws tiny drums on Alex’s stumpy fingernails. Alex is fixated.

Reggie, whose nails have already been painted poppy red, sits to one side, chomping away on a bowl of vegetable crisps. 

“And your mom just  _ makes  _ these?”

Flynn narrows her eyes as she draws a final stroke on Alex’s nail, before she lets get of his hand and puts the stopper in her precision polish. “Yup. She likes to go all out, especially when any of us have friends round.”

“That’s  _ so _ cool,” Reggie says, shaking his head. He looks back into the bowl, and finds only a handful of chips remain. “Did you guys–”

“Go wild, big man,” Flynn says with a laugh.

Reggie’s eyes light up, before he stuffs the final handful into his mouth and crunches. He throws a hand up to stop the crumbs from spilling and Alex shrivels his nose.

“You’re gross.”

“ _ Aw-ex _ ,” Reggie moans around the food in his mouth, shoulders dropping.

Alex puts out a hand, to shield himself from the view. “No, stop. Don’t make me regret bringing you, here.”

Reggie chuckles and chews until he can swallow. He dabs the bowl with his finger to get the crumbs, while Alex admires Flynn’s artistry on his nails.

“Like them?” she asks. 

“They’re really cool.”

“Good,” she says, beaming as she clears away the bottles of polish that litter their nest.

“I still feel bad that I have to take them off before I go home tomorrow.”

Flynn zips up the bag of polish and throws it down. “Okay, you know what?” she points a sharp finger at Alex. “I’m your dad now.”

“You’re my dad?”

She points at Reggie, who looks like he’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “And yours. You hear me? You’re my boys now. I’m your dad. We’re gonna go to the park, play catch. I’mma put you on my shoulders and we’re gonna have ourselves a gay ol’ time.”

Alex and Reggie look at each other, before they break out into matching grins. 

“But you better buy me something nice for father’s day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, find me on Tumblr @soemthingsparkly

**Author's Note:**

> Not exactly what you asked for, but I had a lot of fun writing it, so thank you! It was a nice change from the heavy angst I usually write, so thank you!
> 
> Oh, and yes, Reggie was totally fine in the end. Julie and Luke both recieved a snapchat from Alex that same evening of Reggie with stitches above his eyebrow and a slightly swollen eye, but a goofy smile all the same. He even has his thumbs up.


End file.
